


Buon Sangue Non Mente

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Dating Attempts, Developing Relationship, Family, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-05-20 06:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19371205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: “I want you to find someone, Sonny,” his grandmother said urgently. “Someone who makes you laugh and makes you think, someone you love with your whole heart. I want you to have a family. I want you to find someone to give my ring to.”“I can’t take your ring—”“You can and you will,” she said firmly. “Six months.”Sonny blinked. “Six months what?”“You have six months from the day I draw my last breath to find someone to give my ring to,” she said, reaching with a trembling finger to twist the diamond ring that had been on her finger for almost seventy years. “Someone your parents and your sisters love as much as you do. Someone you want to start a family with. And if you do, you’ll get your inheritance. If not, it’s going to charity.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title literally translated means "Good blood doesn't lie." 
> 
> Outline predicts this will be 4 chapters. We shall, as always, see. To be updated whenever I get the next chapter written.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was matched by the steady snores coming from Sonny Carisi, who was slumped in an uncomfortable hospital chair pulled up next to the bed, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his head bowed. “Sonny,” a soft voice whispered, and Sonny jerked awake.

“Hey, you’re up,” he said, drawing a hand across his face as he sat up, smiling tiredly. “How’re you feeling, Nonna?”

“About as good as you look,” his grandmother said with a weak chuckle, her face creased with the smile she gave him. “Go home. Get some rest.”

Sonny squeezed her hand. “Nah, I’m good,” he said dismissively. “You’re the one who needs your rest.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” She said the words calmly enough but Sonny stilled, his expression tightening. “Oh, don’t give me that look, I know I’m dying. That’s what it means when the very handsome doctor tells me that they’ll make me as comfortable as possible.”

Sonny shook his head, feeling his throat tightening with tears he didn’t want to shed. “C’mon, don’t say that—”

“Sonny, please don’t waste what little time I have left,” his grandmother scolded. “Not when we have something more important to discuss.” She gave Sonny a look. “Your inheritance, for starters.”

Sonny shook his head again, more stubbornly this time. “Seriously, don’t talk like that.”

His grandmother didn't seem deterred. “When you get to be my age, you’ll understand.” Her expression softened and she patted his hand. “I’ll get to see your grandpa again, and I’ve been waiting 10 long years for that.” Sonny gripped her hand and she squeezed it gently. “If you ever love someone like that…” She trailed off. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I thought you wanted to talk to me about my inheritance,” Sonny said mildly.

She attempted to scowl at him, swatting at his hand, though she was too weak to do any real damage. “Oh, look who’s decided not to care that I’m dying anymore.” Sonny grinned and she sighed. “Alright, Mr. Smart Aleck, I’ve put a condition on your inheritance.”

Sonny’s smile disappeared. “What?” he asked blankly. “Why?”

“Because for the past ten years I have watched you,” his grandmother said primly, her lips tightening into a disapproving line, and Sonny suddenly felt like he was six years old again and about to get yelled at for throwing a basketball at his cousin. “You have succeeded at everything you’ve set your mind to, except for one.” She gave him a look. “Your love life is pitiful.”

Sonny gaped at her. “My — what?”

“Your love life! When was the last time you went steady with someone?” Sonny was too baffled to even bother telling her that no one called it ‘going steady’ anymore. His grandmother reached out and gripped his hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “I want you to find someone, Sonny,” she said urgently. “Someone who makes you laugh and makes you think, someone you love with your whole heart. I want you to have a family. I want you to find someone to give my ring to.”

“I can’t take your ring—”

“You can and you will,” she said firmly. “Six months.”

Sonny blinked. “Six months what?”

“You have six months from the day I draw my last breath to find someone to give my ring to,” she said, reaching with a trembling finger to twist the diamond ring that had been on her finger for almost seventy years. “Someone your parents and your sisters love as much as you do. Someone you want to start a family with. And if you do, you’ll get your inheritance. If not, it’s going to charity.”

For a moment, Sonny just stared at her in shock before he took a deep, shuddering breath and saying simply, “Ok.”

His grandmother stared at him. “What, just like that?”

Sonny managed a somewhat tight smile. “Nonna, I learned about 35 years ago not to try arguing with you.”

“Good boy,” she said approvingly, patting his hand again. “And Sonny? Good luck.”

Sonny’s forced smile faltered, just slightly. She had no idea how much he was going to need it.

* * *

 

“Yeah,” Sonny said on the phone, his voice low, almost inaudible in the usual din of the precinct, and Amanda and Fin exchanged glances, Amanda’s worried, Fin’s resigned. “Yeah, ok. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see you tonight.”

He hung up and Amanda cleared her throat. “Your mom?” she asked softly. Sonny jerked a nod. “So that means your grandma’s…”

“She’s dead,” Sonny said bluntly, staring determinedly down at his desk to avoid looking at either Fin or Amanda, to avoid the pity on Amanda’s face or the bracing look Fin was sure to wear. He didn’t want to see it now, not when he had work to do, work that he couldn’t do if he gave in to the tears he blinked back.

As such, he missed Olivia coming out of her office until he felt her hand on his shoulder. “Carisi, if you need to take the day—” she started, but Carisi shook his head.

“Nah, I’m already gonna probably have to take a day off for the wake and funeral,” he said roughly, forcing what he hoped looked like a smile. “I’ll be fine, Lieu.”

She pursed her lips in a way that said she wasn’t buying it. “Fine, but you’re on desk duty today,” she told him, and before he could even open his mouth, she added, “And I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

“No complaints?” Barba repeated, wandering over to them and popping a pretzel nugget in his mouth. “Sounds like my lucky day.”

Amanda gave him a nasty look but Sonny cracked a weak smile. “Yeah, you’re in luck alright,” he said. “I get to ride a desk all day which means I’m here if you need someone to dump your paperwork off on.”

“Tempted as I am to take you up on it,” Barba started, his brow furrowing, “why are you on desk duty? What happened?”

His question seemed sharper than expected, and aimed not at Carisi but at Olivia, who just arched an eyebrow in response. “Nothing happened,” Sonny said with a sigh, and Fin leaned in to murmur to Barba, “His grandma died.”

Something tightened in Barba’s expression. “I see,” he said, before clearing his throat, his expression evening out. “Well in that case, I definitely have some paperwork that I need your help with, provided Liv can spare you.”

“I hardly think now is the time—” Amanda started, her voice frosty, but Sonny stood, grabbing his suit jacket.

“Yeah, ok,” he said, drifting toward the elevator.

Olivia caught Barba’s arm before he could follow him. “What are you doing?” she asked, almost as sharply as Amanda, who was still glaring at him.

“I know what it’s like to lose a grandmother, especially one you were close with,” Barba said, his voice quiet. “Sonny needs something to take his mind off it, and if he can’t be out in the field, this is the best way I can think of.”

Olivia relaxed, nodding slowly. “You’re probably not wrong about that,” she murmured, before adding, “Just...be nice to him today.”

Rafael smiled wanly. “I’ll do my best.”

* * *

 

For the first hour or so of working together, the silence in Barba’s office was punctuated only by his phone ringing, and Sonny shot Barba a glance. “You gonna answer that?”

“No,” Barba said, not looking up from the casefile in his lap as he lounged in his chair, his feet propped up on his desk. “It’s Buchanan. And I don’t particularly want to talk to him right now, especially since I already know what he’s going to say.”

Sonny barked a dry laugh. “Wish I had done that when my ma called,” he said, highlighting something on the page in front of him, and when silence met that, he glanced up to find Barba looking at him, his brow furrowed. “I just mean, uh...I knew what she was gonna say.”

Barba nodded slowly. “So this was expected?” he asked, and Sonny jerked a shrug, looking back at the printout he held without really seeing it.

“We knew it was coming,” he said.

Silence fell again between them, though this time it was punctuated by Barba saying casually, “You know, I lost my own grandmother not too long ago.”

Sonny looked up, surprised. “You did?” he asked. “When?”

Barba waved a dismissive hand. “A few years ago now,” he said. “Not too long after you started at SVU, in fact.”

“I’m sorry,” Sonny said, almost automatically, though he also added, “You shoulda said something back then.”

Barba blinked. “Why?” he asked, with a hint of derision. “We barely knew each other back then. I don’t think I told anyone, except possibly Olivia.”

“Still,” Sonny said stubbornly. “I coulda—”

“Could’ve what, Detective?” Barba asked, amused.

“I dunno, gone to her funeral or something.”

For a moment, Barba just stared at him before chuckling and shaking his head. “You really would’ve, wouldn’t you?” he mused, seemingly rhetorically, and Sonny shrugged. “Well thank you for the thought, even if it is a few years too late.”

Again silence fell between them, but this time, Sonny was the one to break it. “Did your grandma leave you anything?” he asked, and when Barba just stared at him, quickly added, “I mean, like, as an inheritance or whatever.”

Barba shrugged. “Her apartment in the South Bronx,” he said. “Which I should really rent out to someone. I just…” He trailed off. “I can’t bring myself to.” After a moment, he shook his head and arched an eyebrow at Sonny. “I assume you’re asking because your grandmother left you something?”

Sonny made a face. “Yeah but mine came with a condition,” he said sourly. 

“A condition?” Barba repeated. “What kind of condition?”

Sonny suddenly couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I have six months to find a girl to marry me.”

“Ah.” Silence, then— “You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

Sonny let out a slightly surprised laugh. “God, I wish you had met my Nonna,” he said wistfully, and he was surprised to realize he meant it, the realization causing a curl of pain in his chest. “She’d‘ve gotten a kick outta you.”

“Old ladies have been known to find my snark charming,” Barba said mildly.

“Surely not just old ladies,” Sonny said, before he could stop himself.

The corners of Barba’s lips twitched. “Fine, old ladies and you.” Again Sonny laughed and Barba smiled. “What, not going to deny it?”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “Dunno if charming‘s the word I’d use,” he hedged, and Barba’s grin widened.

“Still not a denial,” he said, a touch smugly. Then, after a moment just long enough for Sonny to wonder if he was supposed to say something in response to that, Barba asked, “So why do you have to find a woman to marry you?” Sonny frowned and Barba clarified, “I mean, I get for your inheritance, but why a woman? Why not just anyone?”

“She said she wants me to find someone to give her ring to, so, y’know. That means a girl.”

Sonny shrugged and shuffled the papers in front of him and Barba nodded slowly. “Did she know that you’re…”

“Bi?” Sonny supplied with a tired smile. The subject of his sexuality was not one he typically shared often, but one late night at Forlini’s, under the influence of too many drinks and low enough lights and a long ass day (week, month, year even, if Sonny was being honest), Sonny had told Barba that he was bi. Barba had seemed unsurprised, which Sonny wasn’t entirely sure how he should interpret, but at the very least he had not made more than a few passing comments on it in the years since. “I mean, I never told her. It, uh…” He trailed off. “I was never dating anyone seriously enough to introduce him to my family so it didn’t seem...pertinent, I guess.”

Barba’s expression was completely neutral, and Sonny wished he knew what was going through the other man’s mind. “Do you wish that you had?”

The question took Sonny by surprise, and he shrugged again. “I was never in the closet,” he said simply. “I’ve never hidden who I am. But since I also didn’t tell my grandma about every one night stand I’ve ever had, it didn’t really seem like something she needed to know.” He made a face. “Plus, with the whole, uh, Catholic thing…”

He trailed off again and Barba managed a half-smile. “I assume she wouldn’t have been supportive?”

Sonny opened his mouth to deny it but then paused. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “But I guess I just never wanted to take that risk.”

Barba nodded again. “Well, at least you’re bi and not gay,” he said bracingly, “or this task would be an entire different level of insurmountable.”

Sonny laughed lightly. “You’re telling me.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“For what?”

Barba gave him a look. “For finding some poor girl to propose to with your grandmother’s ring.”

“Oh.” Sonny flushed slightly. “I, uh...truth be told, I haven’t really thought about it.”

Barba cocked his head slightly. “Well, when you do get a chance to think about it, if you need any help, let me know.”

Sonny stared at him. “You’re offering to help me?” he asked, a little incredulous. “Why?”

Barba’s expression softened, just slightly, just enough that if Sonny didn’t know him so well, he’d think that Barba was making fun of him. “Let’s just say, from one grandma’s boy to another, that I get it, and besides, I’m undoubtedly better at this than you are.”

“What, dating women?” Sonny blurted, blushing fuschia when Barba raised both eyebrows at that. “I mean, uh—”

“Romance in general was more what I meant,” Barba said with amusement. “But I’m still probably better at dating women than you are, and as a gay man, that’s saying something.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ok, sure, Counselor,” he scoffed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to muster anything more than that, and Barba seemed inordinately pleased with himself, at least for a moment.

They both looked back down at the casefiles they were working on, and after too long a pause, Barba said, “By the way, you should let me know the details of the arrangements for your grandmother’s funeral.”

“Why?” Sonny asked blankly.

“So that I can go.”

Sonny opened his mouth and promptly shut it again. “You don’t have to do that,” he said after a moment. “I’m not gonna ask you to do that, just because I said I would’ve—”

“Luckily for both of us, you’re not asking,” Barba told him. “I’m offering.”

For a moment, Sonny was tempted to argue further, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Barba was going to show up with or without him sharing the details. “Fine,” he said, “but it’ll be a Catholic Mass, and fair warning, when they play ‘On Eagle’s Wings’, I’m gonna cry.”

“You and me both,” Barba muttered.

Sonny laughed lightly and shook his head. “Thanks,” he said. “Though between this and helping me find a girl to marry, I’m gonna owe you one.”

Barba gave him an almost pitying look. “You’re going to owe me a hell of a lot more than one.”

Sonny laughed again. “Deal,” he said easily.

Both men went back to work, and it wasn’t until almost a half hour later that Sonny realized that for the first time all day, he had actually felt slightly better about not just losing his grandmother, but the daunting task he now had only six months to complete.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barba let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like “low standards” before clearing his throat. “Ice cream or liquor?”
> 
> “Pardon?”
> 
> “When this goes horribly badly, do you want alcohol or ice cream?” Sonny stared at him and Barba smirked. “I aim to be prepared.”

Sonny let himself into Barba’s office without knocking and Barba glanced up at him, his expression softening when he saw that it was Sonny. “Sorry, John, I’ve got to go,” Barba said into the phone, rolling his eyes and mouthing ‘Buchanan’ at Carisi, who grinned. “Yes, well, some extremely important SVU business has come up that I need to attend to. Sure, you do that.”

He hung up and smirked at Sonny. “That’ll leave him sniffing around for a client,” he said triumphantly before his expression turned expectant. “So what did you land on?”

True to his word, Barba had showed up to Sonny’s grandma’s funeral, his eyes suspiciously red during “On Eagle’s Wings”, even. Not that Sonny had been looking at Barba during the funeral or anything. Or at least, not much.

Even truer to word, he had shown up at the precinct two days later with two large coffees in hand, perching on the edge of Sonny’s desk. “So,” he had said, “where do you want to start?”

Sonny had asked for a few days to think about it, but now his few days were up. “Well,” he said, forgoing either of the seats across from Barba’s desk to instead sit on the corner, “I figured the most recent was the most logical place to start.”

Barba looked confused for a moment before his expression slid into something more like incredulous. “Arielle?” he asked. “You want to start with your _ex_?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Sonny asked, only a little defensively.

Barba shrugged. “Oh, nothing, I just thought you were aiming for a wedding, not a funeral.”

Sonny laughed. “C’mon, she and I had fun,” he protested weakly.

“Fun?” Barba repeated dryly. “Need I remind you that she used you as an unauthorized source for a story? Do you want to live your entire life off the record?”

Sonny made a face. “No, I guess not.” He paused. “The sex was good, though.”

Barba let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like “low standards” before clearing his throat. “Ice cream or liquor?”

“Pardon?”

“When this goes horribly badly, do you want alcohol or ice cream?” Sonny stared at him and Barba smirked. “I aim to be prepared.”

Again Sonny laughed. “Neither,” he said decisively, far more decisively than he felt. “I’m not gonna need ‘em. In fact, I’m sure I’ll have a perfectly nice time.”

Barba looked amused. “I admire your confidence.”

“But you think it’s gonna be a disaster.”

Sonny didn’t phrase it like a question and Barba’s grin widened. “Oh, unquestionably.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

Barba arched an eyebrow. “You’ve clearly been hanging out with Rollins too much recently,” he said, something almost pitying in his expression. “Besides, it’d be cruel of me to take your money from such an easy bet.”

Sonny scowled, even as the corners of his mouth twitched toward a smile. “For the record, I wasn’t gonna suggest money, I was gonna suggest loser buys dinner.” He shrugged. “But fine. This way the only thing you’ll be eating is your words.”

Barba snorted. “There’s a fine line between confidence and delusion, Detective,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Either way, let me know how it goes.”

“Should I expect a lot of mockery in the future?” Barba’s pitying glance was the only response and Sonny sighed. “Fair enough.”

* * *

 

Sonny was right about one thing: he had a nice time.

Especially since Arielle was kind enough to bring her fiancé to meet him.

As he left the restaurant, Sonny pulled his phone out of his pocket. _Alcohol_ , he texted Barba. _Definitely alcohol._

_Forlini’s in twenty?_

Despite himself, despite the disastrous evening and the gloating he knew awaited him, Sonny grinned. _Perfect._

* * *

 

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Amanda arched an expectant eyebrow at Sonny, who took a quick swig of his beer and promptly choked on it. “Oh, uh,” he spluttered, and she looked amused. “Uh, so it’s about my grandma.”

Amanda’s smile immediately faded. “Everything ok?” she asked worriedly. “I know it’s only been a couple weeks—“

“No, uh, everything’s, y’know—“ Sonny waved a dismissive hand. “Fine or whatever. Barba’s actually been really supportive and—“

For some reason, that statement made Amanda smile like she knew something Sonny didn’t. “I’ll bet he is,” she said, and Sonny frowned.

“What?” he asked. “I know you and he haven’t always seen eye to eye, but he’s a good guy—“

Amanda held her hands up defensively. “Sorry,” she said quickly. “Besides, I don’t think you asked me to get drinks with you to talk about Barba.” She paused. “Unless that is what you wanted to talk about.”

“No, it’s not about Barba,” Sonny said impatiently. “It’s, uh...my grandma left me something.”

Amanda blinked. “Ok,” she said slowly, clearly waiting for Sonny to explain further.

“And she told me that I could only inherit it if I found a woman to give her ring to, so, uh…” Sonny trailed off nervously. “And, look, you’re my best friend and you know that I love your girls as if they were my own, so I just figured, uh, between the two of us, we could, uh, come to some kind of an arrangement?”

In retrospect, he figured that the question would have been better had his voice not risen in octave until it was something approximating a squeak by the end. Not that it would probably change anything, but at least it would make him feel a bit better about it.

Amanda’s expression was unreadable. “Sonny,” she started carefully, reaching out to rest her hand on top of his, “I thought that we’d gotten past this. You know that I love you, but only as a friend.”

“No, I know, and I don’t, y’know—” Sonny waved a vagu hand. “I don’t have, uh, feelings for you like that anymore either, but this doesn’t have to be about, uh, that.”

Given that Sonny was even less eloquent than usual, he wasn’t really surprised when Amanda just stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

Sonny leaned forward, trying to put this into words in a way that made him not sound like an idiot — or at least, sound like less of one. “I mean, this can be about both of us getting what we need. I’d get my inheritance, you’d get help with your girls—”

He knew instantly that he’d said the wrong thing. Amanda’s expression tightened, her mouth settling into a dangerously thin line. “You think I need help with my girls?” she asked.

“No, of course not, that’s not what I—”

“Because we’re doing just fine,” Amanda interrupted. “I know my life doesn’t look like how you’d want it to, but that doesn’t mean that I need help. My daughters are loved and cared for and—”

“Amanda.” Sonny’s voice was soft, placating, and he waited a moment before telling her, sincerely, “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it that way.” Her expression didn’t change. “Of course you don’t need help. You’re an amazing mom and your girls are lucky to have you. I just mean…” He trailed off and sighed miserably before running a hand through his hair. “I dunno,” he admitted quietly. “I just thought we could figure something out that’d work for both of us.”

For a moment, it looked like Amanda was going to snap at him again, but then she sighed as well, her expression softening, and she leaned forward to grip Sonny’s hand between both of her own. “This isn’t what you want,” she told him gently. “You don’t want an arrangement, or to figure something out.”

“I could,” Sonny told her half-heartedly.

“You, the one guy left in America who still thinks that the latest couple on the Bachelor or Bachelorette is gonna make it even when all the tabloids have reported they’ve broken up before the season even finishes airing?” she asked, amused. “I know you, Sonny. You don’t want convenience, you want true love. And this is not that.”

Though Sonny was tempted to argue it further, he knew she was right, just like how he had known from the get that this was a bad idea. “No,” he agreed, sighing again before adding, “But I don’t know how I’m gonna find all that in time to get my inheritance. So I may not have a choice.”

Amanda looked at him carefully, her expression calculating. “You said Barba was helping you?”

“Yeah,” Sonny said. “Well, he’s trying to, anyway, though I keep going against his advice.” He half-smiled despite himself. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

“Maybe,” Amanda murmured before shaking her head. “Well, what I know is this: Barba’s smart, and resourceful. If there’s anyone who can help you figure this out, it’s him. So stick with him, and I’m sure you’ll find everything you want. Ok?”

“Wish I had your confidence,” Sonny said with a sigh. He paused and glanced at her, suddenly sheepish. “And, uh, sorry about, uh—”

Amanda just waved her hand. “Consider it forgotten,” she told him. “Seriously. I don’t think we ever need to bring this up again.” She drained her beer and stood, patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Have a good night, Sonny.”

“Thanks, Amanda,” Sonny told her. “Give your girls a kiss from me.” Amanda squeezed his shoulder and left, and Sonny sighed again, pulling his phone out. _So Amanda shot me down_ , he texted Barba, taking a long pull from his beer.

_She’s refusing to help you?!_

_Well no, but she turned down my proposal._

Sonny could practically feel Rafael’s eye roll as he read his response: _You know, when I told you to ask Rollins for help, that wasn’t exactly what I meant_.

 _I know_ , Sonny replied, gesturing to the bartender to close his tab, _But I figured it couldn’t hurt to try._

 _I get it,_ Barba texted back. _After all, they do say that something like 50% of people have already met the person they end up marrying._

Sonny grinned as he replied, _Think that means I should ask the Lieu next?_

For a long moment, Barba didn’t respond, and Sonny was half-worried that he had thought Sonny was serious. Then he sent, _You owe Rita a new drink._

Sonny frowned. _???_

_I just snorted so loudly that she spilled hers._

Sonny let out a huff of laughter and shook his head, his grin returning. _Only fair I buy her a new one_ , he texted back. _Where are you?_ Barba texted an address and Sonny shoved his phone in his pocket. He couldn’t help but feel like even though Amanda had turned him down, this evening might still be looking up.

* * *

 

“Det. Carisi.” Rita Calhoun’s tone was particularly predatory as Sonny approached where she and Barba sat at the bar at Forlini’s. “Always a delight to see you, especially when there’s a free drink for me involved.”

“Ignore her,” Barba said in greeting, passing a beer he’d evidently ordered for Sonny over to him. “And believe me, she doesn’t need another drink.”

Rita didn’t seem even remotely perturbed by Barba’s comment, just smiling sweetly at Sonny as he sat. “So, Detective, Rafael was just filling me in on your little predicament.” Her smile widened. “I’ll admit, I’m a little insulted you didn’t think to ask me.”

Sonny promptly choked on his swig of beer. “Oh, uh,” he spluttered, grabbing a napkin and dabbing in vain at the rapidly spreading splotches on his shirt. “I, uh, I didn’t really think you’d, uh—I mean—” 

He gave Barba a pleading look, but Barba just arched an eyebrow, evidently too amused to rescue him. “Relax, Detective,” Rita said with a chuckle, taking a sip of her martini. “You’re about twenty years too young for my tastes, and about four tax brackets outside of my usual market.”

Sonny almost collapsed in relief. “Oh thank God,” he muttered, glaring at Barba, who was laughing into his drink. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Barba said, still laughing. “Figured you could use something to lift your spirits.”

“Yes, Rafael told me that dear Det. Rollins shot you down, and truth be told, I think you’re better for it,” Rita told him, and Sonny shrugged. “Goodness knows she is.” Sonny scowled at her and Rita just looked at him evenly. “Come now, Detective, you can’t possibly think the two of you would be a good match. Even with this whole inheritance thing — though if I may, I can’t imagine any amount of money would be worth putting yourself through this.”

Sonny’s scowl deepened. “Maybe not to you,” he said bluntly.

Rita considered that. “Fair enough,” she allowed. “Now, Rafael tells me that you must marry a woman? Why?”

Sonny sighed and was set to explain when Barba interjected, his smile gone. “There’s no need to turn this into an interrogation,” he said, his light tone belied by the look he gave her. “After all, you know how us lawyers are. Get us started and we won’t stop asking questions.”

“And some questions deserve to be asked,” Rita told him, and Sonny got the feeling that they were talking about something else entirely, and he glanced between them, feeling lost. “And it’s not an interrogation to want to ask.” Barba glared at her but Rita ignored him, looking back at Sonny. “I know your grandmother didn’t know, but how does your immediate family feel about your sexuality?”

Sonny again choked on another ill-timed sip of beer, though at least this time he managed to swallow most of it without spilling on himself. “Uh,” he said, glancing at Barba again, the other man’s expression unreadable as he took a sip of scotch. “I mean, my parents weren’t exactly thrilled, but, uh, they’re pretty supportive.” He shrugged and drained his beer. “Of course, it’s been pretty easy for them to be supportive, since it’s not like I’ve brought a lot of boyfriends around. I dunno what they would actually do if I did though, uh—” He made a face, though quickly forced a smile of thanks when the bartender brought him another beer. “Guess I don’t really have to worry about that anymore.”

Rita nodded slowly. “You’re close with your family,” she noted, and while it wasn’t a question, Sonny nodded as well.

“Yeah,” he said. “They’re my family. Everything else that’s happened to me, they’ve always been there. When I came out, when I decided to become a cop, when I almost got shot—”

Barba set his glass down on the bar harder than he needed to, the resulting crack of glass against wood interrupting Sonny. “Sorry,” he said, when Sonny frowned slightly at him.

“It’s fine,” Sonny told him, his brow furrowing. “Are you—”

Barba just leaned forward to flag the bartender down and Sonny’s frown deepened. Before he could say anything, though, Rita asked, “Would it be a dealbreaker for you if your family didn’t like your future spouse?”

Sonny hid his hesitation by taking a long pull of his beer. “As much as I want to say no, of course not, yeah, I think it would be,” he admitted. “I just feel like whoever I end marrying should be a part of my family, and if they didn’t fit, I can’t see it lasting.”

Rita finished her martini and set down her glass. “Then since your family is so important to you, have you enlisted their help in finding your blushing bride? You have sisters, I believe?”

“Three of ‘em,” Sonny muttered. “But no, I, uh, I haven’t asked them. They can be a bit…” He trailed off, looking for the right word. “Much.”

Oddly enough, that statement made Rita brighten. “Then it sounds like the perfect job for Rafael,” she practically chirped. “He can reach out to your sisters for help.” Barba glared at her, but she just smiled sweetly at him. “After all, this all about helping Sonny, isn’t it?”

For some reason, the question seemed to sour Barba’s mood even further, and he glared at Rita. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

Before Sonny could ask what was going on, Rita stood, pausing to kiss Barba’s cheek before her hand out for Sonny to shake. “Detective, I wish you all the best,” she told him, and he was surprised to hear the sincerity in her voice. “I truly hope you find everything you’re looking for. Now, sorry to rush off, but I have places to be and people to see.” She hesitated, glancing back at Barba, who was hunched over the bar, his shoulders tense. “Call me, Rafael.”

He just grunted in response and Rita rolled her eyes before strolling toward the door. Sonny watched her leave before looking over at Barba. “Everything ok?” he asked.

Barba sat up and ran a hand across his face. “Fine,” he muttered, before giving Sonny a small smile. “I just hate admitting when Rita’s right.”

“Dare I ask what she’s right about?”

“I really ought to ask your sisters for their help.”

Sonny blanched. “You sure you want to put yourself through that?” he asked desperately.

Barba’s smile widened. “Positive,” he said. “After all, no one knows you better than them, right?”

Though Sonny sighed and tried to think of a million different excuses to put Barba off from this, but unfortunately for both of them, Rita really did have a point. “Next time you see Rita, tell her I hate her,” he sighed, holding his hand out. “Gimme your phone.”

Barba raised an eyebrow but passed Sonny his phone without question, watching with amusement as Sonny added a phone number to his contacts. “That’s Bella’s number. She can get you in touch with Teresa and Gina. If you really wanna go through with this, anyway.”

“I do,” Barba told him, taking his phone back. “After all, you’ve only got five months left to go.” Sonny made a face and Barba laughed. “Oh, by the way, I never told you what Buchanan told me the other day…”

The conversation turned from there, but Sonny couldn’t help but feel like there was more that Barba wasn’t telling him, and he dreaded not just what exactly was going on with Barba but also how exactly his sisters were going to end up playing a role in all of this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On and on it went, and Sonny found himself unexpectedly irritated and, for some inexplicable reason, transported back to junior high, tempted to text his sister back with a sarcastic, _If you like Barba so much, why don’t you marry him?_
> 
> He didn’t, of course, because that would be ridiculous.
> 
> Almost as ridiculous as sulking for absolutely no good reason about his sister’s budding friendship with Barba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, this will now have 5 chapters instead of 4. I know, I know, you're all going to riot at being forced to read an extra chapter, but I promise I'll do my best to make it worth your while ;)

Shockingly, Sonny’s sisters were not as big of a pain as he anticipated. At least not at first, though he suspected they were probably torturing Barba instead of him, and he supposed this would just be added to the tab of reasons why he would owe Barba for the rest of his God-given days.

Other than a few texts of good-natured joking about how desperate he must be to enlist their help — including one from Bella that contained at least 100 crying with laughter emojis (Sonny gave up on counting after about 48) — Sonny mostly didn’t hear from them. Well, he heard from Bella quite frequently, but since he heard from her more than both his other sisters as it was, that wasn’t really surprising.

What was surprising is that the only thing she seemed to want to talk about was Barba. Or Rafael, as she was apparently allowed to call him within mere hours of them meeting up for coffee, whereas Sonny had worked for three years to get to the point where he was allowed to call him Rafael and he was still careful not to overabuse that privilege in case it was revoked.

 _Rafael’s taking me out to dinner tonight to discuss plans_ , Bella texted as Sonny was on his third overtime shift in a row, and he gritted his teeth and scowled at his phone. _Isn’t that sweet of him?_

_Rafael wants to know about your dating history to help you find the right girl. He’s so thoughtful!! And don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything too embarrassing ;)_

_Do you think Rafael would want to come shopping with me this weekend? He has such good taste in clothes!_

On and on it went, and Sonny found himself unexpectedly irritated and, for some inexplicable reason, transported back to junior high, tempted to text his sister back with a sarcastic, _If you like Barba so much, why don’t you marry him?_

He didn’t, of course, because that would be ridiculous.

Almost as ridiculous as sulking for absolutely no good reason about his sister’s budding friendship with Barba.

“I thought you wanted their help,” Amanda pointed out in a particularly unhelpful fashion one late night at the precinct as she and Sonny split some Chinese takeout with Fin.

“Help with what?” Fin asked through a mouthful of mu shu pork.

“I did. I do. I just—” Sonny waved his chopsticks in a vague sort of fashion as he searched for the right words. “I dunno. I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.”

Amanda shrugged, snagging an eggroll. “Sure, but wouldn’t you rather Barba run interference than you have to deal with it on top of everything else?”

“What is Barba running interference on?” Fin asked.

“Of course I’d rather Barba deal with it,” Sonny said impatiently. “Doesn’t mean I have to, y’know, like it.”

Amanda considered him carefully. “You sure you’re not just jealous that your sister gets to spend so much time with Barba?”

“Are either of you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Fin asked.

They ignored him. “Jealous?” Sonny repeated, half incredulous, half confused. “Why would I be jealous?”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry, are we just gonna pretend that whole crush you had on Barba never happened?”

“Oh,” Fin said, sudden realization crossing his face. “Oh, I don’t want any part of this conversation.”

He left, taking the mu shu pork with him, and Sonny glared at Amanda. “We’re not ignoring it, but it’s not exactly like it’s germane to the issue,” he said firmly. I mean, c’mon, Amanda, that was a long time ago.”

“Uh-huh,” Amanda said, skepticism heavy in her voice. “The man who never would’ve used the word ‘germane’ in a sentence before meeting Barba thinks it was a long time ago.”

“It was,” Sonny insisted, switching his glare to the shrimp fried rice as if it had personally offended him, stabbing at it with his chopsticks. “It was a long time ago and it was just a crush. Back before I realized how much of a dick he was.”

He meant for the words to sound light and joking, but they didn’t. “You really think that?” Amanda asked evenly. “Because he’s currently a dick who’s bending over backwards to help you find someone to marry so that you can get your inheritance from your grandma.”

“So?”

“So I can see how that wouldn’t at all cause any confusing feelings or anything like that.”

Sonny scoffed, though he couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “Look, whatever feelings I may have had in the past, it’s not like Barba reciprocated. And, uh, since I’m going to be proposing to a woman in the not-so near future, it’s not like it really matters anyway.”

“Honey—”

Sonny shook his head. “Just drop it, ok?” he said tightly before standing and stalking back to his desk, leaving Amanda sitting alone.

Needless to say, he was really not in the mood for a late night phone call from one of his other sisters. “Why have you not introduced me to him sooner?” Gina demanded as soon as he picked up.

“Introduced you to who?” Sonny asked tiredly.

“Rafael,” she exclaimed, as if it was obvious. “He’s _very_ charming. Are you sure he’s gay?”

Sonny sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Uh, pretty sure.”

“Oh.” Gina sounded disappointed, but instantly perked up. “Anyway, I think I have the perfect answer to all of your problems.”

Gina chirped on and on about some friend of hers that she wanted to set Sonny up with on a blind date, and he mostly tuned her out, far too aware of how Gina tended to get when she got on a roll. But it was his turn to perk up when he heard the elevator doors ding open and he looked up to see Barba stepping off the elevator. “Listen, Geen, I gotta go. Just text me the details, ok?” He hung up before could say anything, smiling slightly when Barba approached. “Hey, Counselor. Working late tonight?”

“No later than you,” Barba returned easily, with a tired smile of his own. “I’ve got a motions hearing in the morning so I’ve just been doing some light reading.”

Sonny laughed, knowing full well that by light reading, Barba meant poring over tomes of case law. “Well if you came looking for the Lieu, she’s at home for the night.”

“Ah, should have probably called first,” Barba said with a nod. He cocked his head at Sonny. “You here all night?”

“Nah, just finishing up some paperwork,” Sonny said, with a vague hand wave toward the stack of casefiles on his desk. “I was about to head out, actually, maybe get a drink.” He made a face. “I need a drink after the day I’ve had.”

Barba nodded. “Want some company?”

“From you?” Sonny asked automatically.

“No, from Buchanan,” Barba said with a straight face, and Sonny laughed again. 

“Sure,” he said with a shrug, and together they headed for the elevator. “Sorry about my sisters, by the way,” he said, glancing sideways at Barba. “They’ve been blowing up my phone so I can only imagine how obnoxious they’ve been for you. “

Barba let out a low hum of what may have been agreement. “They certainly do all like to hear themselves talk,” he said, smiling slightly when Sonny laughed. “But surprisingly, they haven’t been as bad as I imagined.”

“Really?” Sonny asked skeptically.

“Well, maybe it’s just because I got used to the worst Carisi first,” Barba said blithely, laughing when Sonny scowled at him. “Joking, of course.” 

“Worst Carisi my ass,” Sonny grumbled, but he nonetheless followed Barba out of the elevator, and by the time they reached the bar, his smile was even back in place.

* * *

 

“Hey Gina, it’s your brother,” Sonny said sourly to Gina’s voicemail. “I assume you’re screening your calls since this is the fifth time I’ve called you and you haven’t returned any of my calls, texts, emails, or comments on your instagram, so, uh, call me back. I just wanna talk.”

He hung up and sank down at the open chair at the café table Teresa and Barba were sitting at, Barba’s expression carefully neutral, Teresa openly laughing into her cup of coffee. “Laugh it up,” Sonny grumbled, taking the coffee cup that Barba tactfully passed him. “If whatever you’ve got up your sleeve doesn’t go any better, this is gonna be me and you this time next week.”

Teresa grabbed a pack of Kleenex from her purse and dabbed at her eyes, still laughing. “Sorry, but if you think ‘I just wanna talk’ is gonna get Gina to call you back…”

She hiccuped with laughter and Sonny glared at her. “You did sound particularly murderous,” Barba pointed out evenly. “And I’m still not entirely sure it was completely Gina’s fault.”

“For setting me up with her thrice-divorced friend who showed up to the date dressed like the Lieu on an undercover sting at a brothel and doused in so much hairspray I was half-convinced she would spontaneously combust?” Sonny asked dryly. “Either Gina was _trying_ to make a joke out of this, or she doesn’t know me at all.”

“I don’t know, I thought the leopard-print miniskirt was particularly tasteful,” Barba said innocently, though he let out a snort of laughter when Sonny groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

Teresa laughed out loud and reached out to pat Sonny condescendingly on the arm. “But that’s why you have Rafael and myself here,” she assured him. “We _do_ know you, and we have no intention of setting you up with anyone who would be friends with Gina.”

Barba cleared his throat. “Technically, we don’t have plans to set you up with anyone,” he said. “But we do intend on walking you through setting yourself up with people.”

Sonny sighed heavily. “Whatever you two have up your sleeves, just spit it out.”

Teresa and Barba exchanged glances. “Have you ever used a dating app before?” Barba asked carefully.

“What? No,” Sonny said, and when Barba and Teresa both just looked at him expectantly, Sonny sighed. “Ok, so I downloaded Grindr once but I, uh—” He winced and shot Barba a pleading look. “But I really don’t wanna have this conversation in front of my sister.”

“Oh there’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Teresa informed him, patting his arm again. “We’ve all had our share of dating app one night stands, right Rafael?”

Sonny made a face. “Reese, I really, _really_ don’t wanna hear about this,” he said sourly, before glancing at Barba and snorting. “Besides, Barba’s still rocking the Blackberry, so I somehow doubt he’s on Grindr.”

Barba cleared his throat. “I’m not,” he said, “but back when I was in my 30s, I may or may not have met up discreetly with a few gentlemen I met online in an AOL instant messenger chatroom.”

Both Teresa and Sonny stared at him. “Jesus Christ, _how_ old are you?” Teresa asked incredulously.

“Carisi, you are rapidly becoming my favorite of your siblings,” Barba said dryly, glaring at Teresa before turning squarely to Sonny. “But that’s beside the point. The important thing is that we want to get you on Bumble.”

“Or Siren,” Teresa added in what she clearly thought was a helpful way.

“Why not Tinder?” Sonny asked, scowling. “Or am I not allowed to actually get laid during this little social experiment you guys are planning?”

Barba looked away, clearing his throat in what he clearly thought was a delicate way, as Teresa rolled her eyes. “Christ, little brother, think with your head and not your dick,” she said scornfully, and Barba choked seemingly on air. “Both of those apps require the woman to make the first move, meaning you can lay everything out there, including the whole schtick with your inheritance from Nonna—”

“It’s not a schtick!” Sonny protested, but Teresa ignored him.

“—So they’ll know what they’re getting into. Between that and your dopey smile—” She reached out and actually pinched Sonny’s cheek, and he let out an indignant noise and batted her hand away. “You’ll find the perfect woman, I know.”

Sonny scowled at her before glancing at Barba. “And what do you think of this plan?”

Barba avoided looking at him. “Having no real experience on dating apps, I’m mostly neutral,” he said carefully, “but that being said, we’re starting to run out of time.”

Sonny’s eyes widened. “Whaddya mean?” he asked, panicked. “I’ve got four months left!”

“Yes, but since I presume you’re not planning on proposing on the first date—” Barba broke off at the look on Sonny’s face. “Either way, I think you need as many options as possible, and whatever else you can say about dating apps, they will give you options. More options than I can.”

For some reason, Sonny felt a wallop of guilt in his stomach at that. “It’s not your fault,” he assured Barba, his voice low. “Seriously, you’ve done everything you can.”

Barba managed a small smile. “Everything save for setting up a dating profile for you,” he said, his tone turning brisk. “But give me five minutes and we can fix that.” He held out his hand expectantly. “Now give me your phone.”

Sonny scowled but nonetheless handed over his phone and Barba unlocked it with surprising precision. Teresa’s eyes narrowed. “Rafael knows your password?” she asked.

“Hm?” Barba said distractedly. “No, I just used my…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “I mean, I just used the number I assumed would be most familiar to Carisi, his badge number.” He fell silent and for some reason Teresa was suddenly very preoccupied with her phone, leaving Sonny to stare between them, his brow furrowing further and further with each passing minute.

“So, uh—” he started.

“Shh,” Barba and Teresa said simultaneously, and Sonny scowled again, draining his coffee cup. 

“I”m gonna get more,” he announced, unsurprised when both his sister and his colleague completely ignored him.

By the time he returned, refilled coffee in one hand — and another coffee for Barba in the other, because he wasn’t a complete monster, though as far as he was concerned, Teresa could fend for herself — Barba had seemingly set up whatever profile he needed to, and Sonny glanced over it as Barba slid his phone back across the table to him. “God, you went with that pic?” he said, making a face.

Teresa glanced over, her expression softening. “That’s a good picture,” she said. “From Mia’s graduation, right?”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine, I just look goofy.”

Barba shook his head. “You don’t,” he said. “That smile? You can’t buy that kind of smile. Trust me, the ladies will swoon.”

Sonny sighed. “I trust you,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “So now I just wait for the hordes of women tripping over themselves to marry me?”

“Hordes might be an overstatement,” Teresa said, standing up and leaning down to give him a one-armed hug. “I’d lower my expectations if I were you.” Her smirk softened slightly when she looked at Rafael. “See you around.”

She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek before leaving, and Sonny stared after her. “Y’know how I didn’t like you and Bella being friends?” he asked, and when Barba shrugged, looking amused, he added sourly, “I like you and Teresa being friends even less.”

* * *

 

As it turned out, Teresa was right: he drastically needed to lower his expectations.

Mainly because, over a week into it, he had received exactly six messages, and none of them were even remotely good matches.

Three of the messengers thought he was joking about the needing to get married thing, one had seemed way, _way_ too into the idea of a shotgun wedding, one had messaged him as a joke, and one was a sex worker who immediately blocked him when he pointed out that he was a cop. 

“It’s hopeless,” he groaned, tossing back a shot of tequila like it was water.

“It’s not hopeless,” Bella assured him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly with one hand and pushing another shot of tequila into his hand with her other. “Dating apps just aren’t gonna work for you.”

“Why not?” he asked mournfully.

“Because your charm cannot be captured by an app,” Bella told him before glancing pointedly at Barba, who was nursing his scotch and seemed content to stay out of the conversation. “Isn’t that right, Rafael?”

Barba considered it for a moment. “She may have a point,” he allowed. “After all, it was only through years of wearing me down that you finally won me over, so it stands to reason that you’re more charming in real life than on an app.” He made a face before downing his scotch in a single gulp. “Which also means I may have been wrong.”

Sonny groaned again, leaning down to rest his forehead against the table. “You said you were wrong and I don’t even get to enjoy it,” he said.

Bella patted his shoulder again. “Cheer up,” she told him. “You still have a few months. You just need to find a woman, and, like Rafael said, wear her down.”

“What, just a random woman?” Sonny asked, slightly hysterical, and he gestured expansively in front of their table. “Like any of these women? What about that one, she seem like a keeper?”

“That’s a really awful painting of a woman,” Bella said patiently, “so maybe you’ve had enough tequila for tonight.” She gave Barba yet another look that Sonny couldn’t quite read, no doubt because of the tequila. “And my cue to go home for the night.” She took Sonny’s face in both her hands, holding him steady. “You will figure this out,” she told him. “Everything will look less bleak tomorrow.”

She kissed his forehead and waved at Barba as she left. Barba gave Sonny a slightly pitying look. “She has a point. Tomorrow is a new day, and one I think you’d like to get to without puking. So it’s probably time I get you a car home.”

“I can take the train,” Sonny said, though he almost fell over as he tried to stand, somewhat contradicting his statement.

“No, you can sit your ass down and drink some water while I get you an Uber,” Barba said patiently, already typing into his phone. He finished and set his phone down on the table, looking at Sonny carefully. “Can I ask you something?”

Sonny groaned. “Depends on what you wanna ask me.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sonny stared at him blankly and Barba quickly amended, “I mean, I know why you’re doing this, but why does it matter so much? I honestly never thought you were the kind of person who cared about money, especially not enough to put yourself through all this, and—”

“It’s not money,” Sonny interrupted, running a tired hand across his face. “My grandma didn’t leave me any money. I mean, she did, a little bit for all us grandkids, but nothing significant.”

“Then what is it?”

Sonny started to answer then paused, looking carefully at Barba. “Tell you what,” he said slowly, already beginning to feel more sober, “how about I show you?”

“Show me?” Barba repeated.

“Yeah,” Sonny said. “You working tomorrow?”

“No,” Barba said, before cocking his head slightly and admitting, “Well, technically yes, but it’s nothing that I can’t save for Sunday.” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Come out to Staten Island with me and I’ll show you what my grandma left me.”

For a long moment, Barba just stared at him, his expression completely unreadable. Then he shrugged. “What the hell,” he said, draining his drink. “Let’s go to Staten Island.”

Sonny grinned and started to reply with a joke before he froze, realization hitting. “Oh, but, uh, fair warning — you’ll have to meet my parents.”

“Oh,” Barba said.

“Yeah, I know, but—”

“No,” Barba interrupted, something like guilt creeping across his face. “It’s just that — well, you should probably know regardless, I’ve actually already met your parents.”

Sonny stared at him. “You what?!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I ate before I came, and besides, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Barba told Sonny’s parents.
> 
> Tessa looked just as disappointed as Dom did. “It’s not imposing, honey,” she told Barba with a cluck of her tongue. “But I know a losing battle when I see one.”
> 
> “Since when?” Sonny couldn’t help but grumble.

Apparently, by ‘met his parents’, what Barba had really meant was ‘become friends with Sonny’s parents in a way that was deeply, deeply disconcerting’. “Hang on,” Sonny had said as they made their way from Sonny’s car to the front door of his parent’s house. “How exactly did you get roped into meeting my parents again?”

“It was Bella’s idea,” Barba had said with a shrug, ringing the doorbell. “She wanted me to see your childhood bedroom in case I got inspired.” He smirked at Sonny. “I certainly was inspired, but more with blackmail material than help.”

Before Sonny could respond — before he could beg Barba to tell him what, exactly, he planned to blackmail him with — the door had opened and Sonny’s mother Tessa had greeted Barba with an ecstatic “Rafael!” and a kiss to the cheek and Sonny’s entire world as he knew it had turned upside down.

Now he stood in the foyer of his childhood home, watching as Barba laughed with his mother about something while his father poured them both a glass of a new scotch he had picked up on Barba’s recommendation. “Seriously, tell your ma thanks for that recipe,” Tessa told Barba. “That rum cake was the hit of the block party.”

“The recipe was actually my grandmother’s,” Barba told Tessa, “but I’ll be sure to tell my mother. She’ll just be happy to know someone’s actually using my grandmother’s recipes again, since neither she nor I are particularly inclined toward the kitchen.”

“Oh, so you’re like my daughters, then,” Tessa said with a laugh. “I had three girls and yet my son is the only one who can cook anything without burning it.”

She reached up and patted Sonny’s cheek, and he grimaced. “Fascinating as, uh, all of this is,” he said, his voice a little strained, “we actually just stopped by to grab the keys.”

He held up the keys in question and Dom Sr. straightened, looking disappointed. “You’re not gonna stay for dinner?” he asked. “I was gonna toss some burgers on the grill or something—”

“Much as I love your burgers, Pops—” Sonny started, but Barba cut him off smoothly.

“I ate before I came, and besides, I wouldn’t want to impose,” he told Sonny’s parents.

Tessa looked just as disappointed as Dom did. “It’s not imposing, honey,” she told Barba with a cluck of her tongue. “But I know a losing battle when I see one.”

“Since when?” Sonny couldn’t help but grumble.

His mother ignored him, which was nothing new. “Fine, but if you’re not gonna stay for supper, you gotta promise to come back for family dinner on Sunday.”

Barba shot Sonny a wide-eyed, slightly panicked look. “I’m not entirely sure I count as family, and besides, I wouldn’t want to—”

“Impose?” Tessa finished for him, her smile saccharine sweet. “Pretty sure you’re not the one who gets to decide if it’s an imposition or not. Besides, with the amount of time you spend with my son—” For some reason, she shot Sonny a nasty look, and Sonny just rolled his eyes, as he had given up on trying to interpret his mother’s various sideglances and pointed stares a solid two decades before. “—and now my daughters on top of it, you might as well be part of the family.”

Barba smiled at her, and to his credit, his smile didn’t even look that pained. Sonny was almost impressed. “I promise I will do my best,” he told her, and she didn’t even wait to pull him into what looked to Sonny like a particularly bone-crushing hug.

“Good,” she said firmly, once she had released him. “And be sure to tell your ma about the recipe.”

“I will,” Barba assured her, reaching out to shake Dom’s hand and instead being pulled into yet another hug.

Sonny’s mother reached up to kiss his cheek before prodding him in the ribs, and Sonny winced. “I like this one,” Tessa told him in an undertone. 

“Good for you,” Sonny said sourly, rubbing his side, wincing again when his father slung an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug.

“So we’ll see you both tomorrow,” Dom told them, and Barba laughed lightly as he glanced at Sonny, whose expression was downright murderous.

“I can make no promises,” Barba told them. “Especially since at this rate you might find my body floating somewhere between here and Manhattan.”

Tessa looked shocked. “Sonny wouldn’t dare,” she said, scandalized, and Barba’s smile faltered.

“I was kidding—” he started, but Tessa cut him off.

“If Sonny’s gonna kill you and dump your body, he’d do it on the Jersey side. No use ruining New York Harbor when Arthur Kill is just on the other side of the island.”

For a moment, Barba looked genuinely horrified, but then all three Carisis broke into laughter and Barba managed a small, if slightly strained smile. “Well, on that note,” he started, again giving Sonny a slightly panicked look, and Sonny grinned at him. 

“Time for us to go,” he told his parents. “See you tomorrow.”

They finally escaped and both stood on the stoop for a moment, catching their breath. Sonny glanced at Barba. “So when you said you’ve met my parents, you really weren’t lying.”

Barba half-smiled. “I would never lie to you,” he said, before nodding at the set of keys in Sonny’s hand. “Do I get to find out where we’re going now?”

“Not quite yet,” Sonny told him. “We got about a half hour drive ahead of us still.”

Barba’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re not taking me to New Jersey, are you? Because I can tolerate Staten Island but I draw the line at New Jersey.”

Sonny rolled his eyes but he was grinning. “You’re such a snob,” he said, with no small amount of affection. “For this I should drop your ass in Jersey and watch you try and fend for yourself.”

Barba shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that.”

Their banter continued for the entirety of the car ride and all the way until Sonny parked at the marina and interrupted one of Barba’s more colorful screeds to tell him, “We’re here.”

Barba glanced warily at the dock in front of them. “Your inheritance is a boat?” he asked, sounding somewhat surprised, and Sonny shrugged.

“Come and see.”

Together they strolled down the dock, Sonny nodding at the few people they passed. Barba seemed quieter than usual but Sonny didn’t mind, just turning his face towards the wind blowing in off the water, sighing contentedly as he smelled the salt water.

About halfway down the marina, he pointed ahead of them. “There she is,” he told Barba, a note of pride in his voice. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She is,” Barba said, and Sonny beamed at him. They walked over to the double-masted schooner and Barba reached out to lightly set his hand against the white painted hull. “Maria Francesca,” he read aloud, running his fingers against the golden letters. “That’s a beautiful name.”

Sonny shrugged. “Thanks, but I didn’t pick it,” he told Barba, crossing to the port side to clamber onboard. “It was my grandma’s name. My grandpa named the boat after her when he bought it back in the 60s.” 

He held his hand out to help Barba onboard, and Barba stumbled slightly, Sonny’s hands falling to his waist almost automatically to steady him. For just a moment, they stood like that, Sonny’s hands resting on Barba’s waist, Barba’s hands lightly pressed against Sonny’s chest.

Then Barba cleared his throat and took his step back. “So it was your grandpa’s boat originally?”

Sonny nodded. “Yeah. My grandpa was a Navy man — fought in World War II and everything. So when he got back from Japan, he always wanted to get a boat. But between the kids and everything else, it took him a few years.”

He patted one of the masts. “Wanna go below deck?”

“Why, Detective, I don’t know if I’m the kind of guy who goes below deck my first time on a boat,” Barba said, deadpan, and Sonny snorted.

“What, all those fancy yachts you’ve been on, and you’ve never gone below deck?” he teased.

“Believe it or not, this is actually probably nicer than some of the yachts that I’ve been on.”

Sonny made a face. “I do not believe you,” he said, unlocking and then holding the door that led below deck open for Barba. “Mainly because I’ve seen some of the yachts people keep moored at the Yacht Club, and if that’s what people are keeping on Staten Island, I can only imagine what the Harvard Alumni Association is sailing.”

Barba considered it for a moment. “Fine, perhaps nicer isn’t the right word,” he said over his shoulder as he carefully picked his way down the stairs. “But definitely in excellent condition. Your grandfather must’ve worked quite hard to keep it this pristine.”

Sonny laughed as he plopped down on one of the benches that lined the open area below deck. “That’s certainly one way of putting it,” he said. “Truth be told, this thing was a piece of shit when my grandpa bought it, and it didn’t get much better since he pretty much only used it for going out fishing. We weren’t even allowed on it when I was real little. My ma thought it was too dangerous.” He ran his fingers lightly over the cushioned back of the bench. “But when I was about ten or so, I started working with him on restoring it.”

Barba looked surprised at that, sitting down across from him. “You did all this?” he asked, glancing around. “Wow, Sonny, that’s—”

“Well, I had a lot of time on my hands back then,” Sonny said dismissively.

Barba studied him carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sonny sighed. “I need a beer,” he said in lieu of an answer, standing and heading to the galley. “You want one?”

“I’d prefer scotch, but I suppose that’d be too much to ask for.”

“Honestly, you should be lucky that I stocked some beer on here not too long ago,” Sonny called, reemerging from the galley with two beers, one of which he passed to Barba before sitting down again. 

Barba raised his beer bottle in a wordless toast and took a sip before glancing at Sonny again. “So it sounds like there’s a story behind this little renovation project of yours,” he prompted, and Sonny sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I know this will shock given how great I am at making friends wherever I go—” Barba’s expression didn’t flicker and Sonny’s self-deprecating joke fell flat. “—but I wasn’t exactly a popular kid back in the day. I was scrawny and not great at sports. They probably figured out I was queer a solid decade before I did.”

Barba nodded slowly. “I know what you mean,” he murmured.

“And, uh, couple kids from the neighborhood were really determined to make my life hell. My pops tried to get me to fight back but there was no way. They’d’ve killed me. And then one day…” Sonny trailed off, his expression distant. “This kid, Bobby Bianchi, he put my face through a plate glass window at school.”

Barba went very still, his grip on his beer so tight that his knuckles were white, though his voice was calm when he asked, “Were you ok?”

Sonny shrugged. “I had to get a couple stitches, nothing too serious. But at the time, I didn’t wanna go home, I didn’t wanna hide in my bedroom or worse, have my ma and my sisters fussing over me. So I ran. Got myself to a bus stop and made my way down here. Boat wasn’t even in the water back then, it was in such bad shape. No one knew where to find me except for Gramps, and when he did find me, he didn’t ask why I didn’t fight back or why I had run. He just let me cry it all out before asking if I wanted to help him fix up the boat.”

He took a long swig from his beer and managed a small smile. “After that, this boat became my sanctuary. I’d hole up here every hay after school and sand and caulk and paint. Gramps helped when he could, but he had a bad back so mostly he shouted encouragement and drank beer on the deck.” He chuckled lightly at the memory and shook his head slowly. “For the first time in my life, I had something to look forward to after school. And when I got to high school, when I finally made some friends, we would all come hang out here.” He glanced around the boat fondly. “I had a lotta firsts on this boat. My first kiss…”

He trailed off and Barba smiled slightly. “Lucky girl.”

“Lucky boy,” Sonny corrected absently, still staring off into space. “My gramps gave me my first beer on this boat. Hell, I think the first time I puked from drinking was on this boat.”

“Well, they say you never forget your first,” Barba said wryly, and Sonny laughed. Barba hesitated for a moment before asking, “What happened to Bobby Bianchi?”

Sonny shrugged, his smile fading slightly. “Last I heard he was still in Sing Sing, doing time for stabbing some guy in a bar fight.” Barba nodded slowly, his expression tightening just slightly, and Sonny gave him a look. “Don’t even think about it.”

Barba blinked. “Think about what?”

“I know that look, and trust me, Bobby fucking Bianchi is not worth your time visiting the next time you have to be at Sing Sing for something with a case.”

Barba cracked a smile. “You know me too well.”

“Or just well enough.” Sonny exhaled heavily before giving Barba a small, almost tentative smile. “I appreciate the thought, though.” He finished his beer and stood, stretching before telling Barba, “C’mon, let’s head up, I need some fresh air.”

They traipsed up to the deck and Sonny was surprised to realize how late it had gotten. “Sorry for rambling,” he told Barba, who just shrugged.

“I’m used to it by now,” he told Sonny with a grin, and they both leaned against the rail staring out at the setting sun, just barely visible over the horizon. “So how long did it take for you to restore her?” Barba asked after the silence between them had stretched long enough.

Sonny shrugged. “Truth be told, there’s still work I could be doing, especially after Hurricane Sandy hit. I was afraid she was gonna be done for, but she really only had cosmetic damage, and that didn’t take me too long to fix this time around.” He ran his hand over the polished wood of the rail. “But originally, she was fully seaworthy again just after I graduated from high school. Which is good, because my grandpa died not too long after that, and the whole family was able to take the boat out and scatter his ashes at sea like he wanted.”

He delivered the words matter-of-factly, but still felt the familiar pang in his chest when he thought about it for too long. “Did you—” Barba started, fumbling with what he was trying to ask. “I mean, when your grandma died—”

Sonny shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “She wanted to have her ashes scattered on the shore. She said that way she could stay close to the family, but when the tide came in, she and Gramps would be together again.”

His voice broke, just slightly, and silence again fell between them, though this time neither seemed to want to be the one to break it. Inevitably, one of them had to. “I get it now,” Barba said, his voice quiet, his face barely visible in the deepening dark of twilight. “Why you’d put yourself through this. This boat is more than just an inheritance. It has a lot of memories for you.” He paused. “A lot of love.”

Even though he doubted Barba could see him, Sonny shrugged, staring out at the water. “Yeah, well…” He trailed off, not really sure what to say to that. “At least if I don’t manage to pull this off, it’ll do a lot of good for whatever charity my Nonna planned to donate it to. It’s worth a good 60, 75 thousand to the right buyer.”

“Bring her here.”

Barba’s voice was strangely rough, and Sonny frowned slightly. “Bring who where?”

“The girl you find,” Barba told him. “If you want to pull this off, bring her here, tell her everything you just told me. If she wasn’t in love with you before that, she will be after.”

Sonny glanced over at him. “You sure?” he asked, somewhat doubtfully.

Barba’s voice was quiet, so quiet Sonny could barely hear his response. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Sonny swallowed against the unexpected emotion that rose in his chest as he looked at Barba leaning against the railing of his grandfather’s boat, staring out at the ocean, barely visible in the darkness. But Sonny didn’t need light to see him, to know the way his forehead furrowed, the way his nose crinkled slightly when he laughed or his eyes when he smiled. He didn’t have to see him to know that there was no hint of a smile on his face now. “Raf…”

Barba turned, just slightly. “What?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper.

“Why are you doing this?”

Sonny realized he should probably clarify what he meant, that he knew why he was trying to find some unfortunate woman to marry him but he still didn’t quite understand why Barba was going to the lengths he was going.

Or maybe he did.

Maybe he just wanted to hear him say it.

Instead, he found himself closing the space between them until they were mere inches apart, too close, perhaps, to misunderstand anything. “I told you,” Barba whispered, his breath ghosting lightly over Sonny’s cheek, “I’m better at this than you.”

“Raf…” Sonny started again softly, but as Barba shook his head, starting to pull away, Sonny leaned in, kissing him.

For a moment, Barba stood still, but then he reached up to cradle Sonny’s cheek in one hand, his palm warm and large against Sonny’s skin. Sonny gripped Barba’s waist, pulling them flush, his mouth opening against Barba’s with a sigh.

Then, abruptly, Barba broke away, his expression too dark for Sonny to read. “Sonny,” Barba commanded, his voice just this side of breathy, and Sonny frowned slightly.

“Raf—“

“We can’t do this,” Barba said. “ _You_ can’t do this.”

“What do you—”

Barba gestured around them. “This boat, what it means to you — I can’t take that away from you. I won’t.”

“What if I don’t care?”

The words were out of Sonny’s mouth before he could stop them, and he thought, for just a moment, that he saw Barba’s expression soften. “But you do care,” Barba told him, his voice low. “You care so much about so many things that some days I wonder how you manage it all. But then I met your family, and I heard you talk about your grandparents and I get it. And I want—” His voice broke, and he took a deep, ragged breath before telling Sonny, “I want you to find someone you can bring on this boat and make a part of your family. And you and I both know that can never be me.”

He turned away but Sonny reached out to grab his arm. “Raf,” he started with a sigh, but Barba didn’t wait, just pulling his arm out of Sonny’s grasp. ““Rafael!”

But Barba was already gone, and Sonny sagged against the railing of the boat, feeling suddenly ten years old again and more alone than ever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the hell is this?” he asked warily, taking a step into the room.
> 
> Bella patted the bed next to her. “An intervention,” she said cheerfully.
> 
> Sonny rolled his eyes. “An intervention?” he repeated. “Are you guys fucking kidding me?” The three identical glares they gave him told him they weren’t. “I don’t have time to deal with this right now—”
> 
> “Sit down and shut up,” Teresa ordered, and Sonny weighed his options and realized they could probably overpower him if they tried, especially since it wasn’t like he was going to hit his own sisters.
> 
> No matter how much he might have wanted to at that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to everyone who has read, commented, kudos'd, etc! It means the world to me :D

Sonny didn’t bother making excuses for Rafael’s absence at family dinner the next day, mainly because he decided to skip it as well. The last thing he needed was his family’s loud opinions on top of everything else.

He ignored his mother’s multiple phone calls and deleted the various texts from his sisters.

There was only one person he wanted to call him, only one person whose texts he was waiting on.

He wished it didn’t hurt as much when they never came.

And as the days stretched into weeks of phone silence and cordial, professional interactions at work, as the arbitrary deadline established by his grandmother rapidly approached, the pain had dulled enough and turned to bitterness enough that Sonny was happy to admit that Barba was right. Just like he always was.

Barba was never going to be the one for Sonny.

He wanted to pretend that coming to that conclusion was enough to truly kickstart his misadventures in finding a woman to marry, but if anything, the opposite was true. He still tried, sure, but his heart wasn’t in it like it was before.

“You ok?” Amanda asked quietly one day at the precinct as they were both catching up on paperwork.

“Fine,” Sonny answered automatically, not looking up from the case notes in front of him.

Amanda hesitated for a moment. “You sure?” she asked. “Your sister texted me. She said you haven’t been talking to them. And I know you haven’t been talking to Barba.”

Sonny’s head snapped up. “My sister texted you?” he repeated in a growl. “Which one?”

“That’s not the point—” Amanda started, but Sonny cut her off.

“Whichever one it was had no right doing that. This is none of their business.” He glared at Amanda. “And none of yours, either.”

Amanda held up her hands defensively. “I just want to make sure you’re ok,” she said. “I know you’ve got this whole thing with your inheritance and it doesn’t seem like Barba’s helping you anymore, so—”

“God, Amanda, just stay out of it,” Sonny snapped, standing up and storming out of the precinct. 

When he got outside, he took a deep breath before sighing heavily and running a tired hand across his face. He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at Amanda like that, that she really was only trying to help and likely didn’t have any idea what was going on, and he owed her an apology.

And a drink, though that would have to wait until after work.

With another sigh, he started toward the coffee cart down the street, figuring at the very least he could return with coffee to tide her over until he could buy her an actual drink. Before he got to the cart, though, his phone rang, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe this time it’d be Barba.

Of course, it wasn’t.

It was Bella.

“What?” he said gruffly in lieu of an actual greeting.

“That really how you want to say hello to your own sister?” Bella asked, and he could practically picture the look on her face. “Especially since this is the first time you’ve actually picked up your phone for me in weeks.”

Sonny rolled his eyes. “I’ve been busy,” he said dismissively.

“Sure, busy blowing up everything good in your life.”

Sonny gritted his teeth. “If this is what you called about—” he started, impatience biting in his tone, but she cut him off.

“Nah, I’m happy to let you self-destruct all on your lonesome. I actually need your help this weekend.”

Sonny took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. “Help with what?” he asked.

“Our parents have some boxes they need taken down from the attic,” Bella said. “Me and Tommy were supposed to go out there and help, but he’s been called in to work and I was hoping you’d be willing to lend a hand.”

“Ma trying to get Christmas decorations up before Halloween again?” Sonny asked, falling back on the usual humor that, once upon a time, he had shared with his favorite sister.

It was as close to a peace offering as he could extend.

“Something like that,” Bella said with a short laugh. “So you free sometime this weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m off Saturday,” Sonny told her. “So I’ll see you then.”

“Great,” Bella said. “Oh, and Sonny?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to be a jackass to the people who love you, before you run out of people entirely.”

She hung up before he could respond, and Sonny glared at his phone for a whole minute before shoving it back in his pocket and ordering two coffees to take back to the precinct.

Still, between apologizing to Amanda and having a not-entirely-disastrous date with a perfectly nice woman that Friday night, Sonny was in what could almost be considered a good mood when he headed out to his parents’ house on Saturday.

The mood did not last.

His mother greeted him with a distracted kiss on the cheek and a simple, “Upstairs” when Sonny asked where Bella was. He headed up but was surprised to find that the light was on in what used to be his bedroom, and he poked his head in, confused. “Hey—” he started, the word dying on his lips when he saw not just Bella but all three of his sisters sitting in the room.

Clearly, they’d been expecting him.

“What the hell is this?” he asked warily, taking a step into the room.

Bella patted the bed next to her. “An intervention,” she said cheerfully.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “An intervention?” he repeated. “Are you guys fucking kidding me?” The three identical glares they gave him told him they weren’t. “I don’t have time to deal with this right now—”

“Sit down and shut up,” Teresa ordered, and Sonny weighed his options and realized they could probably overpower him if they tried, especially since it wasn’t like he was going to hit his own sisters.

No matter how much he might have wanted to at that moment.

So instead he heaved a sigh and sat down next to Bella. “I really don’t know what this is about,” he started, interrupted by both Teresa and Gina simultaneously.

“What part of shut up do you not understand?” Teresa asked, exasperated, while Gina rolled her eyes and told him, “It’s about Rafael, you dumbass.”

Sonny flinched. “Look, that’s not—”

“Sonny.” Bella set a hand on his arm. “C’mon. Despite what you might think, we’re not actually stupid.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sonny muttered mutinously.

“And despite what you might think,” Bella continued as if Sonny hadn’t spoken, “we all just want what’s best for you.”

“And what’s best for you is Rafael,” Gina added.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, though the words felt hollow, even to him.

Teresa must’ve picked up on the lack of heat in his voice because her expression was almost sympathetic as she told him, “We know that he loves you.”

“No he doesn’t,” Sonny said, almost automatically.

Gina’s look was far less sympathetic. “Of course he does,” she sniffed. “Why in the world would someone that handsome voluntarily spend that much time with you otherwise?”

“He  _ did _ voluntarily come out to Staten Island,” Bella added helpfully. “Twice, even. And based on everything you’ve said, that doesn’t seem like something he’d do if there weren’t feelings involved.”

“Besides, the password to his cellphone is your badge number,” Teresa said evenly. “If that’s not true love—”

Sonny just shook his head. “All of those things can be explained by the fact that, I dunno, we’re friends. Or at least, we were. Doesn’t mean he’s secretly in love with me.”

The three sisters exchanged dubious looks. “It’s not exactly a secret,” Bella said finally. “I mean, God, Sonny, the way he looks at you…” She trailed off and shook her head before leaning forward. “Look, I know it can be scary to put yourself out there but if that’s what’s holding you back, trust us, he’s crazy about you.”

Sonny gritted his teeth. “Trust me, he’s not.”

Teresa rolled her brother. “Ok, fine, if you can give us one good reason why you think that—“

“Because he could’ve had me!” Sonny didn’t mean to shout it, but at least it had the desired effect of rendering his sisters, however temporarily, silent. “Because we were out on the boat and we— we kissed, ok?” His expression twisted at the memory and he looked down at his hands and swallowed hard. “And he turned me down. He coulda had me, and he didn’t want me. He doesn’t love me.”

For a moment there was still silence, and Sonny focused on the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

But like any silence in the Carisi household, it wasn’t bound to last.

“Oh my God, are you really that stupid?” Teresa asked incredulously. “Of course he turned you down! You probably just gave him the whole sob story about the damned boat—“

“What’s that got to do—“

“And he turned you down to be stupid and noble,” Gina finished with an eye roll. “Which means you two really are meant for each other. Idiots.”

“What do you—“

Teresa spoke over him. “Do you seriously think, if he truly loved you, he’d be willing to ensure you lose your inheritance from Nonna when it’s so important to you? Of course not. He wants you to be happy. Because he loves you, you dolt.”

Her words were a little too reminiscent of what Barba had said and Sonny flushed. “That’s not the point,” he muttered, but his sisters ignored him.

“Made for each other,” Gina repeated, a little viciously. “Complete idiots, both of you. If only you paid attention to anything besides that stupid boat—“

“It’s not just about the boat!” Sonny said hotly. “Nonna told me—“

Bella’s grip on his arm tightened. “Nonna’s dead, Sonny,” she said quietly. “And we all love her and miss her, too, but you can’t live your life based on what Nonna may or may not have wanted.”

“Maybe you can’t, and you don’t have to,” Sonny said, his voice low. “But this is my life, not yours, and besides, Rafael made it clear that he didn’t want to be a part of it.”

All three sisters stared at him for a moment before all tried to speak over each other. “You don’t actually believe that—” Gina scoffed, while Bella pleaded. “C’mon, Sonny, if you just talked to him—” and Teresa sighed, “We all know he loves you—”

“Just leave it alone!” Sonny burst, shrugging off Bella’s hand and standing, glaring at the three of them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, and besides, it doesn’t matter anyway! It doesn’t matter what he feels or what I feel or—” He broke off, feeling emotion threatening to choke him, and he shook his head. “It’s just — it’s not gonna happen, ok?”

Without another word, he left, taking the stairs two at a time, not caring that he was stomping like a petulant child, not caring that his sisters were probably talking shit about him behind his back. All he knew was that he had to get out of this house, had to get away from them, away from the things they said, away—

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Sonny’s mom intercepted him at the bottom of the stairs, worry plain in her expression as she looked him up and down.

He just shook his head and tried to brush past her, but she stepped in front of him, keeping him where he was. “Nothing.”

Tessa pursed her lips. “Is this about Rafael?”

“Christ, Ma, not you, too,” Sonny sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face.

“We all just want you to be happy—”

Sonny snorted. “Yeah, well, you all have a funny way of showing it.” This time he did manage to brush past her, making a beeline for the door. “It’s not gonna happen between us, ok? So just let it go.”

He wrenched the door open but froze when she said, her voice quiet and icy cold, “Dominick Michael Carisi Jr., I went through eighteen hours of labor with your stubborn ass, you do not get to walk out on me.” He slowly turned around, unsurprised to see his mother standing with her hands on her hips and glaring at him, though her expression instantly softened when she saw his face.

And the tears he was trying desperately to fight back.

“Oh, sweetheart—” she started, crossing over to him and pulling him into a hug, and he screwed his eyes shut, well aware that he was starting to cry in earnest. “You love him, don’t you?”

Sonny pulled away, wiping the tears off his cheeks with the heels of his palms. “That doesn’t matter,” he said roughly. “This — him and me — it would never work.” He tried to force a smile. “Besides, it’s not what Nonna wanted for me.”

Tessa shook her head. “Sonny—”

“Ma, I can’t—”

“Sonny.” His mother reached out and took both his hands in hers. “I think it’s time you take a look at your Nonna’s ring.”

Sonny sighed heavily. “Ma, I know what Nonna’s ring looks like,” he started, but Tessa shook her head and pointed at the couch.

“Sit,” she ordered. “Wait. I’ll be right back.”

Though Sonny tried to protest, she was already gone, and he let out a defeated sigh, slumping back against the couch cushions and cradling his head in both hands. He only looked up when his mother returned, her hand gentle when she set it against his shoulder. “Here,” she said, sounding choked up, and Sonny glanced up at her, tentatively reaching out for the ring box and envelope she held out to him. “Your Nonna told me to give this to you when you were ready.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll, uh, I’ll give you a moment.”

The envelope wasn’t sealed, which meant his mother had almost certainly read the letter inside, and despite how miserable he felt, Sonny still managed to roll his eyes. Some things really never did change.

Of course, as soon as he opened the letter, his amusement bordering on irritation fled, replaced by a sudden, uncontrollable longing as he saw his grandmother’s familiar, if slightly shaky, writing, and he had to take a moment to control himself before he could even begin to read.

_ My dearest Sonny, _

_ By now I assume you’ve made quite the fool of yourself trying to find a woman to marry you, and I hope you’ll one day forgive me for putting you through all that. Of course I’m not going to donate your boat to charity — you and I both know that boat has belonged to you since you were 10, and no one could ever love it the way that you do. _

_ But I do hope that this little exercise has helped you realize what — or who — you want. Who you  _ _ really _ _ want — no matter if that person is a man or a woman. _

The breath caught in Sonny’s throat and he stared down at the letter, the tears in his eyes making it almost impossible to keep reading.

_ I know you thought you could never tell me, and I’m sorry if I let you believe that. But the truth is, I’ve always known who you are. You’re my grandson, and who you love could never change that.  _

_ And now that you know the truth, I still want you to find someone, but not because the threat of losing the boat is hanging over your head, but because you deserve to be as happy and loved as I was every day of my marriage to your grandfather. Find that person who makes you happy, and you can either give him this ring or keep it for yourself. _

For the first time, Sonny looked at the ring box in his hand, and he set down the letter before slowly, carefully, he opened the box.

The tears started in earnest when he saw the simple golden band nestled against black velvet.

It wasn’t his grandmother’s engagement ring at all.

It was his grandfather’s wedding band.

Sonny held the ring box in both hands, crying freely as he looked at the golden band, crying because his grandma had known him better than he had ever hoped, crying because he had lost her, and crying because he finally felt like he had found her again.

When the tears had mostly stopped, he looked back at the letter.

_ This is my ring, Sonny, the one I gave to your Nonno many, many years ago, and I want you to have it now. _

_ May your life with whoever makes you happy be as blessed with as many years and as much love as he and I shared. _

_ I love you, _

_ Nonna _

Instantly, he knew what he had to do, and he closed the ring box with a snap, shoving it inside his jeans pocket. “Ma, I’m leaving,” he called, and his mother reappeared in the kitchen doorway, beaming and crying at the same time.

Wordlessly, he held out his arms and she rushed over to give him a hug before reaching up and patting his cheek. “Don’t you dare come back here without him, do you understand?”

“I’ll do my best,” Sonny promised.

Then he kissed her cheek before practically bolting from the house.

He had a ferry to catch.

* * *

 

Even though it was a Saturday and, theoretically, Barba shouldn’t be working, Sonny knew better. Knew he’d find him in his office, knew he’d come in to see Barba lounging in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, casefile in his lap, pen cap in his mouth.

For the first time in weeks, the mental image didn’t make Sonny’s chest hurt.

Instead, he felt — happy, he supposed, though that didn’t seem quite enough to capture everything he was feeling. Ecstatic would be closer to the truth.

And for the first time in longer than he cared to think about, he felt hopeful.

He made it to Barba’s office in One Hogan Place in what had to have been record time and let himself in without even bothering to knock. “What—” Barba started, annoyed, sitting exactly as Sonny had imagined, and somehow, it was one of the best things Sonny had ever seen in his life. “Oh.”

Barba’s tone dropped from mild annoyance to something sad, something small, so quickly that Sonny felt it like a punch in his gut.

“Hi,” he said, and winced at how utterly inadequate it was. “Can, uh, can we talk?”

Barba’s eyes flickered up to his and away again. “By all means, Detective. What fresh hell awaits me in SVU?”

“Not about work.”

Barba went very still. “What else could we possibly have to talk about?” he asked carefully.

Sonny shrugged. “Us.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t as clear as I should’ve been before, but there is no us to talk about.” Barba didn’t deliver the words with any heat, any anger, though Sonny personally felt like he probably would’ve been justified. Instead, he said them in his most neutral tone, like he was stating facts before a jury.

Ordinarily, Sonny would’ve admired his composure. But not now.

“Maybe not,” he said, making his way toward Barba’s desk, his hands in his pockets. “But that’s what I wanna talk about. Because there could be.”

Something tightened in Barba’s expression and he sat up, tossing the casefile he held on his desk. “I think you and I both know that ship has sailed,” he said, his voice low, pausing before adding, with a slightly wry twist of his lips, “rather literally in this case.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Sonny said casually, perching on the edge of Barba’s desk like he had a thousand times before, always just a little too close to be professional. “It’s still in the dock, waiting for us to get on it. Both of us.” He took a deep breath, nerves fluttering in his stomach. “If you want to, anyway.”

Barba stared at him. “Charming though this metaphor is, I’d rather you just got to the point,” he said, with a bite of his usual impatience.

“The point is, I was wrong, before,” Sonny said, and he swallowed against the veritable tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. “I was wrong about what my Nonna wanted.”

Given how much time and effort he had put into what he thought his grandmother wanted, Sonny wasn’t entirely surprised that Barba looked skeptical, to say the least. “I thought she was pretty clear in what she said.”

Sonny just shrugged. “Nah, turns out she just wanted me to figure out what I wanted for myself.” He hesitated, still trying to wrap his mind around everything he had read in her letter. “Besides, she, uh, she apparently knew I was bi.”

“She did?” Barba asked sharply, and Sonny nodded. “And are you ok with her knowing that?”

It hit Sonny so acutely to realize that Barba’s immediate concern was less about the implications of Sonny’s grandmother knowing and more about making sure Sonny was ok. 

Just like he always had, Sonny realized.

Maybe Gina had a point about them both being idiots.

And made for each other.

“Yeah, I’m ok with it,” he said. “Part of me wishes I had been the one to tell her, but on the other hand, she knew all along and she never stopped loving me, so I guess that just proves that actions speak louder than words.”

Barba nodded. “That’s certainly true,” he said, but Sonny wasn’t listening, just looking at Barba as if it was the first time he had seen him.

Actions spoke louder than words.

Maybe there was still time left for Sonny to follow his grandmother’s example.

“So what did she—” Sonny cut Barba off by kissing him, closing the space between them in an instant, cradling Barba’s stubbled jaw in both his hands as he kissed those lips he’d been dying to kiss for a second time since the boat incident.

Barba reached up to circle both Sonny’s wrists with his hands, but he didn’t push him away. He didn’t try to pull away, either, instead moving back just enough that their noses brushed in a move that probably shouldn’t have made Sonny’s stomach do a somersault. “Dare I ask what precipitated this?” he asked, just this side of breathless.

“I just wanted to,” Sonny told him, truthfully. “I know I owe you explanations and apologies and a thousand other things but I figured, y’know…”

He trailed off and Barba smiled slightly. “Actions speak louder than words?” he provided.

“Yeah,” Sonny said. “Figured I’d take a page outta my Nonna’s book on that one. And, uh…” He trailed off, running his thumb across Barba’s cheekbone, marveling at the flecks of gold against the green of Barba’s eyes, marveling at the freckles sprayed across his nose, marveling at simply being here, marveling at this being possible. “My Nonna didn’t give me her engagement ring. She left me my grandfather’s wedding band, and told me to find whoever made me happy, man or woman. ”

Something seemed to light up in Barba’s face, but then he hesitated. “What about your boat? he asked, and again Sonny’s heart beat faster at the concern he could hear in Barba’s voice, the doubt he could see darken in his eyes. “If you — if we—”

“The boat’s mine”, Sonny said simply. “No strings attached besides hope that I’ll find happiness.” It was his turn to hesitate, to doubt, even if just for a moment. “And, uh, provided you actually want this, I’m pretty sure that I’ve got a good shot at that.”

Barba rolled his eyes so hard that it looked painful. “If I actually want this,” he scoffed, balling a fist in Sonny’s shirt and tugging him closer to kiss him again.

When they parted again, Sonny was grinning in a way he felt like he hadn’t since his grandma died.  “God, how did I not know sooner?” he asked, mostly to himself, running his fingers lightly through Barba’s hair as if to convince himself that this was real. “About my Nonna, about how you felt, how come I didn’t—”

“Much as I’d love to let you take the blame, I think part of it rests with me,” Barba said. “It’s not as if I pursued you openly. Well, there was a moment, I suppose, where I thought, maybe—” He broke off and shrugged uncomfortably, and Sonny had a feeling he knew which moment Barba was referring to, and he allowed himself to feel a slight pang of regret that neither of them had made a move that day in a bar after Mike Dodds’ funeral. “But then it passed. And then you were dating other people, and I—”

“You were an idiot.”

Barba blinked. “Excuse me?”

Sonny just grinned. “You don’t think I would’ve dropped everything for a chance to date you?”

Despite Sonny’s joking tone — despite the absolute truth in his words — something darkened in Barba’s expression. “Not really, no,” he said, and Sonny’s smile faded, just slightly. “I’m not exactly a catch, Detective. Not really the kind of man a good Catholic boy from Staten Island brings home to meet his parents.”

Sonny felt something like anger bloom in his chest — not at Barba, but at whomever had made him feel that way. “Yeah, well, tough shit,” he said roughly. “Because I already did.”

Barba rolled his eyes. “That was under somewhat false pretenses, so—”

“False pretenses my ass,” Sonny said impatiently. “Pretty sure my parents and sisters like you better than me already, and besides, I’ve been crazy about you for years.”

“You have?”

Barba sounded surprised and Sonny realized for the first time that just like he had chalked Barba not making a move up to him not being interested in Sonny, Barba must’ve done the same.

God, he hated when he had to admit that Gina was right.

“Well, yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I just... I, uh, figured you didn’t feel the same.”

Barba smirked. “Now who’s the idiot?”

Sonny just rolled his eyes before kissing Barba again, a lighter kiss this time, or at least it started that way until Barba stood to slide between Sonny’s legs, to crowd him against the desk as he opened his mouth against’s Sonny’s with a contented sigh that Sonny felt in his soul.

Neither man seemed to want to take it any further, both knowing with the same unspoken rhythm they had shared for years that this was not the moment for anything more. That would come later. They had time.

Time. Sonny had never before realized what a gift that was.

Barba rested his forehead against Sonny’s for a moment and Sonny ran his fingers lightly through the wispy hairs on the back of his neck. “So about the no strings attached for the boat,” Barba started. “Does that mean that you don’t have to get married?”

“I mean, not right away,” Sonny said cautiously, “but I still want to. Eventually, anyway.” He chanced a look at Barba’s face. “Is that a, uh, dealbreaker?”

“Not necessarily,” Barba said, before adding, almost off-handedly, “Not if it’s with you.”

“You going soft on me, Counselor? Sonny teased, wrapping his fingers in Barba’s hair. “You really think you can manage a lifetime with me? Or, worse, with my family?”

Barba made a face. “Well, provided there’s copious amounts of scotch at least.’ Sonny laughed and Barba smiled before asking, “So where do we go from here?”

Sonny didn’t even have to think about it. “Well, for starters, you missed Sunday dinner last time. So whatever plans you’ve got tomorrow—”

“I know this will shock you, but I have none.”

“Then we’re going to my parents.” Sonny paused to leave room for an objection, but Barba didn’t offer one. “And after that, I thought we might go back to the boat, maybe even take it out this time.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Barba said. “But fair warning, I might get seasick.”

Sonny laughed. “Well, there had to be a downside somewhere.”

Barba rolled his eyes but he was grinning, and Sonny’s own grin widened. Just hours ago, he was convinced that he was destined to lose everything he had ever wanted, and now here he was, with someone his family adored, with someone he loved, with a boat that contained more happy memories than perhaps any other piece of his childhood, and with a real shot at enough happiness to last his lifetime.

His Nonna had known exactly what she was doing.

And Sonny had never been more grateful for that.


End file.
